This Side of Heaven
by Wizard of Anthropophage
Summary: Snapping up from my warm bed, sheets sprawled around me, I felt my heart racing and mind wandering. Rolling onto my belly, I propped on my elbows and rubbed my face. I picked up my phone and smiled. "I dreamt you called me." RevKevEdd. RevKevin. RevEddward. RevKevin. R&R. Reverse AU belongs to Asphyxion.
1. Chapter 1

_**"How they lived their life, an eccentric romance of Shark and minnow." ~N/A**_

 **1.**

* * *

"Hello?" I said nervously into the receiver. _Me? Eddward Doyle Rockwell nervous?_ Rolling my eyes, I thought I was some lovesick fool speaking to his long-term crus-

"Hi? Who is this?" A voice echoed through the line.

"Is this Kevin?" There was a sudden constriction of logic, with the exception of millions of doubtful scenarios flashed through my mind. One, I was given a faulty phone number and have been made a fool of - Then again, maybe I do deserve to be made a fool of. My heart thumped loudly. _God please, let it be the right phone number._ "This is Eddward."

"Hi Eddward." In the background, I could hear an oddly familiar narration from an old TV show. There was a sudden silence, like you turned off the show to speak with me.

"Hi Kevin." I wondered if you were nervous as I was.

I attempted to keep my cool while enduring a long silence -It was not easy. Butterflies swirled in my stomach, tickling my fingertips, as I resisted the urge to blurt out nonsense. "Kevin?"

"Hmm?" I heard you hum.

"I thought you hung up." You don't know how happy I was when you replied -I would've skipped around my room.

"Wouldn't there be a dial tone if I did?"

"Yes, there would be." I mused. "Uh. What was for dinner?" I tried to make conversation.

"Leftovers. What about you?"

"Uh, I had…" _What did I have for dinner?_ "I had meatloaf." Speaking with you muddled my mind, I couldn't remember if I were left handed or right.

"Sound delicious."

My hands tingled as you laughed through the phone. Gulping dryly I continued small talk until you asked me a personal question.

"Eddward?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You can ask me anything."

"Alright." I waited anxiously as I listened to you sigh and mumbled to yourself.

"Take your time."

"How did you. Um. Why do you- I mean."

"Who, what, when, how?" I teased.

You airily chuckled before exhaling heavily into the receiver, momentarily buzzing my side. "I mean. How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That you're Jimmy Barnes."

My stomach twitched and my throat quivered. "Wh-wha?" I couldn't help the smile that twitched onto my lips and the urge to hold my stomach. "What?" I burst into a laughing fit.

"Nh, Nevermind!"

Feeling bad for laughing, I said, "No, no. Not nevermind. You were asking how I knew?"

You hesitantly replied but I waited patiently. "Uh. Yeah. Um. How did you know? or, I mean, when? I'm not sure how to ask this question appropriately."

"Its alright." My heart beated heavily I thought you would hear it. _How did I know? But I didn't? Did I?_ "Uh." Shit, I didn't know how to respond. "I. Just. I just knew, I guess."

"You just knew?" You sighed, or maybe released a long held breath. You sounded like you were in the clouds.

I take back what I thought earlier. I am some lovesick fool speaking to his long-term crush.


	2. Chapter 2

_**"Best things in life aren't things." ~Mike Ness, S.D.**_

 **2.**

* * *

You looked so much like a librarian from the bleak 20th century; Little social life but hazel-green eyes wide with curiosity. Your sweater vests came in a large collection of argyle hand-me-downs from your recently deceased grandfather -whom I've had the honour to meet- and as gifts from your mother spent hours knitting. The variation of sweaters did not end there, you also had winter coat favorites, most in bland wool; One coat you'd convince me was like Rorschach's.

My personal favorites were the maroon v-neck cardigan; it contrasted with your unruly ginger hair, but also you purposely wear to the theatre -It always worked to keep you cold and for me to keep you warm. And that fitted brown sweater vest, it never failed to distract me when we ate out at the crowded burger place -I always sat close, glaring at anyone who dare to look at you.

"Kevin." My lips tingled when I said your name.

"Hmm?" Your hazel-green eyes snapped up from the menu then quickly hid. "I-I just want a burger."

"Just a burger?" I said.

"And fries?" Your shoulders shrugged, this action caused the sleek polyester from my team jacket to slide down your shoulders. I was tempted to reach over and pull the coat back around your shoulders, possibly zipping it to the top. You avoided my gaze, as you slid my jacket off then carefully folded it onto your lap.

"Burger and fries it is." I smiled when you hid your freckled blushing cheeks behind the menu.

Your thick glasses slide down your nose but was quickly corrected by your pinkie. How much smiling can one do? Everything you did, I smiled, especially over today's outfit. Beneath the fitted brown vest was a neatly pressed button-up dress shirt, the matching bow tie loosened from your fidgeting. The seams of your nicely pressed shirt were the only disheveledness that you donned, aside your sliding glasses. The seams were picked loose, often I would watch you mutter as you snipped off the strands.

"Your fashion sense is very wormy."

"Wormy?" You mumbled, eyebrows knitted together as the menu fell from your fingers, making a soft plap.

"You dress like a librarian." Mentally I was berating myself. I probably sounded like a jerk, especially on our first date. "I mean. Buddy Holly. You remind me of Buddy Holly."

Slowly, a smile crept onto your lips. That same tingle, tickled my lungs. I think I stared a bit too long because you quickly covered your mouth with your sleeve.

Reaching over, I tugged at the hem of your shirt sleeve. "Let me see." Before you could remove your hand a throat cleared.

"Orders?" The waitress stretched a smile, exhaustion embellished her young adult face from the overtime serving tables.

I remember that first date, you 'discretely' placed $22 for our waitress and jogged away with a shy smile.


	3. Chapter 3

_**"Angel, I want to be with you." ~Tears of Passion, Angel**_

 **3.**

* * *

"Its not weird!" You defended. "Their music represents who they are as a cultural group."

You paused your rant, catching a breath, then continuing -your voice tunneled through the phone line.

"Their genre is _extremely_ interesting. Instead of puppy love songs and pubescent poetry, its about their life stories, their epics, their memory of becoming!"

"Kevin. This may be Macbeth's song of triumph, but also, listening to a man, who, might I add, wrote his own requiem, while eating Wheaties and doing Algebra at 1 am isn't normal." I teased, "Your classical and viking music are your depictions of manly!"

"Don't take me as a complete freak, I listen to some popular stuff too!"

"Oh yeah, like what?"

"I enjoy the Stones and Keith Moon."

"Alright Mr. I-Fit-In 1960s."

"How bout tease me about my Marvelettes record?"

The smile from my lips dropped. "We agreed to never speak of that again."

"Good night Eddward~!"

"Kevin!"

The nerve of you, hanging up on me on that lazy Sunday morning. After eight successful dates, you were more comfortable in antagonizing me in the most adorable ways. Honestly, I enjoyed being teased by you than when I doing the teasing. Leaning back against the plush pillows, I sighed. Sleep, as precious as it was for a growing adolescent as myself, I felt the need to dial you.

"Hello~?" Your voice knowingly answered.

"Pumpkin~ I didn't get a chance to say goodnight."

You stuttered. Calling you pumpkin left you speechless, often with your freckled cheeks flushed and nose red.

"I'm sorry Eddward." Finding your voice, you continued. "I guess my 'weird' music can't wait."

"No, no. I shall not be replaced by your medieval music." Sleep ruled everything around me; The edge of the bed became out-of-focus, my speech became impediment and your sweet chuckles were dreamlike. "Kevin?"

"Hmm?"

"You're not weird." I slurred like I had a mouth full of marbles.

"I know." You sighed.

" _I know_ , what?"

"I know you're not weird." You added coyly.

Together, we shared a laugh; soft and lazy.

"Hey, Eddward."

"Yeah?"

You didn't hesitate to speak, "I really like you."

"I." Pausing, lethargy welled deep in my pores, seducing my body to rest, but your confession was like an energy drink. For a brief moment, I felt that you were sitting across from me, tugging at your tartan pajama bottoms, shyly smiling. "I _really_ like you too."

Confessing to you was like taking a much needed drink of cold water.

"I'll call you when the sun rises."

"Pumpkin. I'll be the first to call you~"


	4. Chapter 4

_**"No sensible decision can be made any longer without taking into account not only the world as it is, but the world as it will be." ~Isaac Asimov**_

 **4.** **Pt. 1**

* * *

"I'm grounded." You said.

"Grounded?" Though confused, I was more in awe by your pout. I took the text books from your arms as I walked you to class. "You mean you flew a plane to safety or something?"

"Yes." Bluntly answering, you sighed and trekked through the hallway.

During school, I pestered you about spending the night to watch your weird science fiction TV show. Though, I do rarely beg, I thought tonight seemed perfect to _cuddle_ on the couch. You obviously were more than pestered by my constant buggering. You seemed to have abandoned me while I spoke with a teacher on an upcoming English assignment. I was upset, but I did have an odd satisfaction in finding you when hiding.

In the farthest corner of the library, you sat, eating _my_ sandwich. A sandwich, I still would've gave you, even if you didn't ask. Wrapping my arms loosely around your thin shoulders, I nestled my chin atop your Quiz Bowl cap, and sighed. Relieved that you won't go hungry. And possibly annoyed because I wanted that sandwich as well.

"Edd?" You were caught off guard by my actions.

"Kevin."

Hours passed by, our little library lunch remained unspoken about. The bell rang, dismissing the class and the school day. Waiting in the lobby area of the front school doors, I admired the sunny afternoon of green cottonwood trees and rubbed my nose from the smell of this morning's cut grass. Your hand shyly grasped my jacket sleeve.

Turning, I met your ever-curious hazel eyes.

I drove in silence, listening you talk more about math equations than last night's episode of your science fiction show. You talking about school was a sign that you were upset about something.

"Pumpkin." I interrupted your rant. "Is there something the matter?"

"No. Why?"

"Obviously, there is something wrong. My labels are curled at the corners."

You quickly removed your hand away from the dash label and busied yourself with the radio.

"My parents are add it again." You mumbled.

Clenching and unclenching the steering wheel, I opted to squeeze your hand instead. Rarely, you'd let me hold your hand, especially in the car, but you intertwined our fingers, exhaling a breath you may have been holding.

"Thank you Eddward."


	5. Chapter 5

_**"Through conversations, I listened, and I feel like this is the best way to interpret what she told me." ~Hotel Books(July)**_

 **5\. Pt.2**

* * *

Using a Kleenex, I rubbed the grime away from your small window and peeked in. You sat at the foot of your bed with an open book titled "Robot Dreams" while Billie Holiday crooned from a tiny speaker. Your eyebrows knitted together and lips pouted, oh how much you loved Isaac's books on robotics, especially the topic of humanizing robots.

A smile tingled my lips.

As much as I wanted to stand on your roof and watch you read, I wanted to sit on your super-hero themed bedding while you passionately babble about the current chapter in your book. Tapping the window, your attention seemed alarmed, like if my tapping was supernatural. Tapping the glass once more, realization washed over your face.

"Edd! Please don't do that!" You lifted your window and poked your head out. "I have a front door."

"That is true, but if I do recall, you are grounded."

"Oh yeah."

"And I assume your cell phone has been confiscated?"

It was so cute how you rubbed the back of your head with a sheepish smile. "I guess I forgot. Cause you know, I have books."

"It is quite alright Pumpkin." I took a seat on your bed. "I am here now, you no longer have to be amused by Isaac."

"Ha Ha."

"I'm not going to be treated like this because I didn't do anything wrong!"

A sudden voice interrupted our comfortable silence. Another voice entered the silent space. These two voices, muffled but audible, were of your parents. In a rush, you closed his bedroom door.

"Oh, you think You Did Nothing Wrong?"

"I. Did. Nothing. Wrong!"

The closed door only muffled their arguing. I watched you close in on yourself. Your curious eyes became distant and fearful, your posture slouched. Everything I admired greatly about you broke down and I saw a small scared boy. My stomach churned in the most unpleasant sense, like after eating broccoli after a junk food binge.

"Kevin. Com'ere." I patted the empty spot on your bed.

You padded your way to the open space. Grasping your pillow in your lap, I began to rub circles at the small of your back, in hopes that would help your discomfort.

"They arranged to have a movie night. I was sent up here because I was complaining." You explained. "Why do they have to do 'family night'? Why spend time together if the family isn't together!?" Your lower lip quivered.

"I do apologize if I do not understand your home situation completely."

"Its okay. Please, just let me talk." The croak in your voice constricted every muscle in my chest. Seeing you like this, so defeated. I let you rest your head on my shoulder and you allowed me to wrap my arm around you. "Its complete bliss when they're a part. Honestly, I prefer my step-mother more than my biological mother. She's much nicer. And she appreciates what my father can give her."

"Please continue."

Hot tears streaked down your cheeks as you spoke of your time going between your mother's and dad's house. You figured that it was convenient having two homes, two beds, and two separate families because there was no more fighting, no more verbal arguments, no more witnessing physical arguing. You sobbed about the times realization kicking in more than once; One being that your parents were moving on without you -they accepted the children of their new found relationships, treating them like those kids were theirs. Another being, their happiness meant more than yours -abandoning you for long periods of time at their old family home, so they could stay with their new loves.

"I didn't realize it then, but they never stopped fighting. Everything..." You paused. "Everything I was led to believe about family and divorce is like a repetitive punch to the gut."

You mentioned love and your doubt in it. Confessing that "Love is bullshit", like you hoped to never experience love but only _liking_ someone. I felt sick, nauseous really, at your confession.

Rubbing the last of tears, your crossed your arms and mumbled. "The only good thing about their divorce is that I get breaks from their arguing."

Our positions still unchanged, your head on my shoulder and my arm around you, the only difference is my head resting atop yours.

"Pumpkin?"

You hummed a response.

"Would you like to get a late night snack?"

"I'm grounded. Remember?"

"Yes, I do remember. That is not going to stop me though."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 _For Jamison_


	6. Chapter 6

_**"...We've become nocturnal." ~Tiger Army, Nocturnal**_

 **6.**

* * *

"Edd!" You whined, your voice reverberating through the phone. "We saw each other just a few minutes ago."

A chuckle rumbled in my throat "Kevin. I saw you two hours ago, I _need_ to call you."

"You mean you called yesterday and we went out yesterday?"

"Yesterday? Kevin! You're breaking my heart. I'm not some jerk off boyfriend who only calls if I need a doe eyed trophy to show off." I said dramatically, "I'm the doe eyed trophy that my jerk off boyfriend shows off."

I smiled happily, knowing you held your stomach laughing.

"Kevin! Keep it down. You don't want your parents to hear you."

"My dad and step-mum decided to spend the weekend out of town. I told you Friday."

"Friday?" I hesitantly spoke, "You- uh, yeap!" Of course, I forgot. I must've been staring at you doing your pouting or nerding out on a recent book. Or, wait, yes, I do _remember_ now.

"You don't remember do you?" You stated bluntly.

"In my defense, meathead Brent Bretson was glaring holes in your cute head."

"Really?"

"He's up to something. I just know it."

There was a brief pause, until you decided to speak your mind. "You're a loser."

I ignored your comment. "So mum and dad are spending the weekend in the woods?"

"I hope not. Dad doesn't have a sense of direction"

"Right. The Anderson men seem to have that in common." Your cursing sounded cuter when offended. After your cursing died down, I continued, "And you're alone?"

"Yes."

"When are they coming back?"

"Uh, late evening? I don't know."

"How much longer are you going to stay up?"

"Uh, I don't know. Another hour or so? I want to finish this episode of-"

"Is it that freaky sci-fi show?"

"I didn't know sci-fi freaked you out."


	7. Chapter 7

_**"Spinning on that dizzy edge, I kissed her face and kissed her head, and dreamed of all the ways I had to make her glow." ~The Cure, Just Like Heaven**_

 **7.**

* * *

"Hi Edd." You answered with little mucus in your voice.

"How are you faring?"

"Much better."

"You sound like you're well."

"I should be in bed getting rest." You berated teasingly.

"You should be." I agreed. I spent three school days and a Saturday without you; I was lonely. "But I wanted to call."

"At 1 am?"

"Yes."

You blew your nose. An idea peaked.

"Have you ever heard of the mind-body connection?"

"Nuh uh."

"It supposedly wards off illness."

"How?"

"Well, if you think ' _I will not get sick, its all in my head.'_ repeatedly, it works."

"Edd. That's bullshit."

"Now now Pumpkin, you can control how much hormones when stressed. That's how you got sick." I chastised lightly.

"Hormones?" You paused then continued. "How in hell does that work? Sometimes I think that hat of yours is too tight." You grumbled, "Probably cutting off blood circulation from that mad intellect of yours."

"If I use my mind." I tapped my finger to my forehead. "Then I prevent myself from becoming ill." The corners of my lips quivered at I tried not to laugh at the ridiculous medical theory.

I was left with silence, then there were the heavy breathing from your end. Suddenly, laughter erupted; You laughed from the pit of your belly, it was beautiful, your wholeheartedly laughter sent trembles down my throat, encouraging my own laughter.

"You pulled that right out of your ass!"

"I am only kidding Kevin."

Minutes after your laughter died down, your breathing, like a soft echo, recurred through the phone.

"Edd." You mumbled.

"Yes?"

"You're a dweeb."

"Are you talking in your sleep?"

"Yes'm." You replied, lazily laughing. "I like you."

"I like you too Kevin."


	8. Chapter 8

_**"I suspect you've noticed that making art could be lonely." ~Jenny Holzer, artist**_

 **8.**

* * *

It was my first attempt at fixing a contraption without your assistance. Something, I would never admit aloud, I was proud of. Your dad answered the door that day; I felt welcomed by your dad, him being a father figure I've never had.

"Eddward!" Your dad greeted me with a rough pat on the back, "My other son! Keeping up your grades I hope." he tilted his head back and laughed wholeheartedly. "Kevin is up in his room being a nerd."

I noticed a difference between your dad and mother. Your dad, as big and burly as he was, he was softie for your interests. There were times your dad took us both out to sporting events in giant stadiums, you being the center of attention. Once, when I met your family, he introduced our relationship to them, him being intimidating as he was kind, stood proud of you. Your mother on the other hand, gave you twenty dollars and introduced us as 'friends'.

"Thank you Mr. Anderson."

The similarities between you mother and dad -they always spent time with you like it was the last time.

The fixed contraption fitted heavily in my palms as I snuck upstairs to your room. Your door was cracked open, a static like sound emitted -possibly you were tinkering with that old record player you salvaged at the dump-yard some weeks back. The static flicker and the soft keys of Dvorak exits your space.

You were leaning against your desk, using the natural light to guide you through the salvaged device. Your lips were puckered, a screw placed firmly between your teeth for later use; and your eyes flickered back and forth from the device to the aged instruction manual you found at the thrift store. Your fingers danced in the device, like it were delicate organs handled by a surgeon.

My hands felt heavy from the contraption in my grasp. The creaking of the door did not disturb you but the sudden flash did break your trance.

"Eddward?"

 _Surprise!_ I thought. "There's a flash?"

The contraption was a Polaroid 600 camera. Though this was a great accomplishment, there was little to fix besides finding the film. The film, no longer made, was difficult to find -I bought the expired film online.

The camera made mechanical churning until it spat out the chemical fused film.

"You actually got that thing to work?"

"Yes, I did. You sound like you had doubts."

"I'm impression actually. I figured the film was impossible to find."

The record play began to sputter, ruining the soft classical. Your attention turned back to the device. I held the Polaroid, your image appeared slowly with a yellowing sheen -which I assumed was from the expired chemicals.


	9. Chapter 9

_**"We can never go back again, that much is certain." ~Daphene du Maureier**_

 **9.**

* * *

My ears shrilled like a telephone. My peaceful dreaming consisted of only dimmed images as I stirred. The phone really was ringing. I felt like Jerry Lewis trying to figure out where the ringing was coming from.

"Hey." Your voice whispered. "Its me."

"Kevin?" I rubbed sleep from my eyes and squinted to the clock at the side table. "Its 1 in the morning."

You softly snickered. "I know. Sorry Edd."

"Why are you up so late?" Having you call felt more than just a dream.

"Its a Saturday night. Or, I mean, a Sunday morning. I should be asking why you're sleeping on a break night."

"Cause I'm tired of this week's crap." I mumbled. As honest as I was being, I did feel guilty of calling the 'week' crap.

"Uh Eddward?"

"Hmm?"

"Nevermind."

"What? What is it? Are you okay?" I asked frantically, sitting up in bed and turning on the small lamp.

"I'm okay. I promise. Its just." Your mumbling turned into a string of curse words. "I just.…" You trailed off, leaving me to think the worst.

His silence gnawed at my stomach. "Kevin. Are you rethinking our rela-"

A fear, one I was unaware I developed until one day questioned, that you'd want to be only _friends_. More than one occasion, we've been introduced as _friends_ by your mother; your family questioned our correction and you'd stumble over your words, an action I found cute until you'd shrug at your family's expressions.

"No. I'm not!" Your quick reply left me uncertain.

"Yeah but-"

"Eddward." Your voice, unreadable, I could only guess that your lips curled at the corners. "I'm okay. _I'm not going anywhere._ "

"Alright." My response felt forced. "I trust you."

"I-love-you-I'll-see-you-Monday." The dial tone tickled my ear as configure your string of words. Seconds passed.

Gasping, only to choke on air, I attempted to catch my breath as I mentally berated my phone for not being quick enough. The ringing was infuriating; it was another second longer away from your all knowing voice and science fiction filled nature. My mind, branded by your words, was jumbled -something you never failed to do. _How was I to respond? Was our relationship built up enough for such intimate words? Were we too young to understand the actual concept of love?_

"Edd?" You shakily answered.

A sudden boost of confidence overrode doubt.

"I love you Kevin Anderson."


	10. Chapter 10

_**"I was afraid of change, but I was afraid of not changing." ~Hotel Books, Car Crash**_

 **10\. Pt. 1**

* * *

"Eddward." There was light knock at my door.

"Hm?" I answered not moving from my bed.

"You can't avoid phone calls by leaving your phone downstairs."

"I know, I'm sorry mother."

Her small feet padded closer to my bed. The bed shifted, plunging my back toward her. "Call him back, please?"

It was my side of the story that she finally got to listen; on why I was brooding all week and that I spent more time swimming. The guilt gnawed at my insides, possibly rotting. _How could mother look at me after what I've done? After what I've done to Kevin, whom is like a second child to her?_

I didn't realize how envious you were of me: The precious value family still present, of an overworked father who knew little of sports and more of numbers, and a mother who always baked with citrus. We were not perfect, but to you, _We were Perfect_. The relevance of your long held secret -you personally swore to take to your grave, that your parents should've never heard, and in my moment of vanity, I let myself rant ruthlessly. I swore that the world heard.

There it was again. Those flashes of images like the yellow sheen Polaroids. _Deceit fell on your shoulders where my jacket was supposed to be and you pulled at your seam-stressed sleeves with wide frightened eyes, hazel-green brightened with threatening tears._

Mother's sweet scent of powder and citrus lulled me from my guilt. She rubbed my back and cooed sweet loving phrases, ' _Its not your fault Eddward. You're the world to him.'_


	11. Chapter 11

_**"Sunday Morning I missed it when you called and I couldn't do a thing but watch." ~La Dispute, Sunday Morning**_

 **11\. Pt. 2**

* * *

My body jerked awake, heart racing and mind wandering. Where am I? _Where is Kevin?_ Is he safe? Am I safe? Who is screaming? Glancing around, I figured out what the screaming was. _It's my phone._

There was that familiar image of you, your skin glowed in the early morning sun and a blush, like your freckles, dusted over your cheeks. Another personal favorite of you, a favorite I managed to snap and keep forever.

It was 1 am on a Sunday Morning. Its been one week and I was tempted to call you. I wanted to ask you about the Twilight Zone reruns and beg you to read me your recent science fiction story. Hours ago, mother tried to lure me from bed, even dial you and hear your voice at least once. Instead, you called me.

 _Why did you call me? Did you call to yell at me? Or make me apologize? God, how much I wanted to apologize. But. To apologize through the phone, it was too pathetic, too cowardly._

The red icon on my phone indicated I missed your call.


	12. Chapter 12

_**"Anger, repressed, can poison a relationship as surely as the cruelest words." ~Joyce Brothers**_

 **12\. Pt. 3**

* * *

The heavy scent of wet dirt watered my mouth and the coolness of the air tickled deep in my nostrils. The grass compressed in a watered down mush beneath my boots, a disturbing thought in my mind, but I didn't want to turn back because of cold feet, literally.

The shorter route proved it's worth, I arrived within minutes. Much to my delight, your bedroom window was still glowing bright and slightly open.

How was to I make the approach? Knock on your window? There's a great chance you will not answer. Call you and have you come down? Another chance you'll deny my call.

The tree proved to be a greater challenge than your rejected calls. The branches were slippery, brown of the bark embed between my finger nails, and the narrow branches slapped my face with wet droplets. The branch that hung low, just mere feet from your window, was covered in wet leaves, the final obstacle. The wet leaves glided from beneath my boots, causing me to stumble an awkward dance across the branch and onto the roof. Much to my misfortune, the roof was much slicker than the branches; My feet slid from beneath and I grabbed for your window seal.

"Edd?" You opened your window wider.

"I have that comic book I borrowed."

As ridiculous as the conversation starter was, you rubbed your lips together in attempt to hide a smile.

"I want to apologize for being an ass. I didn't take your feelings into consideration. My stupid ego got in the way of what was important." My fingers ached, my grip slacked. "Kevin, I really can't keep hold any longer, I'm slipping."

"I don't know. You look like you're having fun there."

"Kevin please!"

"Alright, fine." You leaned forward, gripping the window frame and the shoulder of my coat. With all your might, you pulled. "Geez! What did you eat? A whole shark?"

I cringed at soaked shirt and jeans but glad that I was no longer on that cold roof top.

You sat on your bed, arms crossed and frowning. _Cute_ , I thought. You obviously wanted an explanation.

"I assume you want me to start?" I rubbed the coolness of my coat. You nodded, your unruly ginger hair bobbed. I felt exposed, uncertain where to lean or to pocket my hands in wet pockets. "I cannot blame you for anything. I blame myself, for getting to know you, for falling for you, for being an open book. I'm not saying I want us to end, I'm saying, I want to understand you better, so I won't fuck up like I did."

You were silent.

"I don't understand your home situation completely Kevin. I'm aware of what's going on but I don't know how to react or support you through it."

"You're doing plenty."

"How?" Confusion littered my train of thought. I exposed your weakness and now you say I'm doing plenty.

Grabbing my dirty hands, you wiped off the grime with a towel. "You're patient and listen to what I have to say." You plucked the twigs from my hair and beanie, and took my dirtied coat. "It means a lot when someone important to me listens. Also, I'm repetitive, but your patience means a lot. It relieves the pressure and makes me feel happier."

You left the bedroom. Leaving me to my thoughts. You're terrified and I exposed your weakness, and now _\- Now what?_

Returning, you handed me a pile of clothing, stating that those were the largest pajamas you owned. They fit loose and left me wondering how'd you look in a size x-large.

"Spend the night. Since you're ready for bed." You tossed a blanket over my head. It was the plush galaxy themed blanket, your favorite.

This felt intimate; sleeping in the same bed, separated by our designated blankets and pillows.


	13. Chapter 13

_**"No two people on Earth are alike, and it's got to be that way in music or it isn't." ~Billie Holiday**_

 **13.**

* * *

Awaiting your call, I scrolled through a playlist of favorite songs. But that night, I misplaced my ear phones.

"What is that sound?" Was your greeting.

"Music. These guys are a popular California punk band." I replied nonchalantly. Placing my phone near my laptop, I let you hear a couple of songs. "And these guys are from New York, not so popular but have quite the reputation."

"I've never heard their music before. Are you sure they're popular?" There was a hint of distaste in your voice. "It's just noise. What is this one?"

"Fugazi."

"Fugazi? What does that mean?"

"There are numerous meanings. One being an acronym or slang for 'Fucked up, got ambushed, zipped up' another is-"

"That's a band?" You spoke loud into the phone. "That's a scary title!"

"Don't you think you're being a little too judgemental?"

For about twenty seconds you were quiet. "Edd?"

"Hm?"

Hesitantly, you asked, "If you enjoy such music, why don't you wear their t-shirts and go to their shows? I'm sure they've played in the city often."

"I don't see you wearing a shirt with Chopin's logo, now do I?" You began stuttering. "Calm down, I'm only teasing. I like that 'vulgar' music, just like how you like watching your Twilight Zone."

"Oh, uh. Okay? I still don't get it."

"What is it you don't get?"

"I'm sorry. It's just. Uh. I didn't expect an athlete to enjoy such vulgar music. Especially the top of our class and undefeated swim captain, _Eddward Doyle Rockwell._ " There was added emphasis to my name. I wasn't sure if you were being sarcastic or serious. Kids our age wear their t-shirts and their hair like theirs, saying that so-n-so are their idols. I've heard music from something-horizon and something-and-bear." You paused. "But. You're not like that."

"Stop with the stereotypes Pumpkin. You may just end up arrogant."

You were quiet, so I continued.

"I guess some of their songs are good. But, I think I prefer the older bands."

"The something-horizon and something-something are not older bands?" You asked.

"Honestly, I know little of their influence. But their genre is quite recognized, or, popular. More on the recent side."

"You don't like their music?"

"It's not that. But. I have a preference."

You hummed. "Distorted guitars and testosterone filled lyrics, it doesn't seem like you. I thought you'd be into hip-hop or something."

"Now you're speaking nonsense." I shook my head at his ignorance.

You went quiet. There was shifting from your side. "Edd?"

"Yes?"

"You're not upset, are you?"

"Upset? What is there to be upset about?"

I could hear you sighing, then you mumbled. "I don't know. Made a big deal out of your music taste?"

"No. I'm just thinking of what band I should introduce you too. And. Maybe take you to a show."

That was an exciting night. I specified the difference of certain 'vile' genres and their roots - Though you continued to call it vile. Silly but I felt that I spoke more than you.


	14. Chapter 14

_**"Just like Sid and Nancy, I will be bleeding after you." ~The 69 Eyes, Dead'N'Gone**_

 **14.**

* * *

There is little recollection of our conversation prior to our intimate activity, but that does not matter. In our location, sitting on your bedroom floor with homework strewn about and winter seeping through your window, it was perfect; magical, if I may exaggerate.

You sat a foot from me, a recent robot project in hand, your arms waved about, motioning to your robot. My fingers found the loops to your jeans; I urged you closer. I assume you were waiting for me to initiate such action because you immediately took control by putting your hands on my biceps and scooted _so_ daringly close that our hips touched. We sat there with our homework crunched beneath our socks.

"Can we stand?" You asked, you were very sure of yourself.

I nodded, unable to rid the quivering in my throat.

Our abdomens touched. You urged me to keep my fingers laced to your jean loops and wrapped my other arm around you.

You inhaled a shaky breath, your hazel-green eyes flickered between doubt and ache. You seemed to have made a decision; You stood on tiptoes and brushed your fingers at the nape of my neck. Your little plushy kisses tickled my jaw. Lifting my chin, your lips pressed firmly against my throat. God, it felt so eroctic when you stop momentarily for additional kisses on my adam's apple.

 _Plush, like miniature marshmallows._ I thought.

You took a step back to breathe. You seemed satisfied that you had me flustered, but I wanted to melt.

"I've been wanting to do that for a while." You admitted shyly, averting your eyes and nibbling on your lower lip. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Never be sorry."

You didn't let me continue, once more, you took control and rose to your toes. For better leverage, you gripped my shoulders. I felt like I was crash landing as I leaned toward you, one finger loosely holding the jean loop and the other tracing the hem of your collar.

I tilted my head up, startled by the sound of your heater clicking. Your lips pressed firmly against my chin.

"My mistake." I swallowed.

You sniggered at my clumsy apology.

"C'mere." You said, you wrapped one an arm around my neck and placed your lips at the corner of my lips. I felt your lips curled in a half-smile, so plush and warm. Your lips left too soon.

Your head tilted back, centimeters apart. unacceptable.

You gasped, surprised by my sudden action of gripping your chin. My hand trailed from your chin to your throat; Beneath my pinkie, your pulse throbbed beautifully. You wove your fingers through my hair, it tickled but soothed the rush in my abdomen. You left it to my imagination when you kept your lips sealed -I wanted to be sure you'd taste like how your lips felt, sugary. My ears perked at the ambient white noise, like a tape recorder. I needed you closer; Wrapping an arm around your upper back and the other to your lower back, we were not close enough.

We withdrew. You breathed heavily, I did the same. Resting my head on your shoulder, I was failing to gain my composure. My heart throbbed in my throat, adrenaline choking me. I inhaled; Your argyle sweater vest smelled like lemon chicken, courtesy of your mother's cooking, with a hint of your natural scent that I've associated with eucalyptus spearmint. I felt you you shake.

You laughed, your little chuckled breaths tickled my cheek. "You're so gay for me Eddward Rockwell."

"I am happy Kevin." It was so clumsy, so awkward, _so perfect_. I wanted to lift you up and twirl while singing Tony Bennett. _I kissed him. I. Kissed. Kevin. Anderson!_


End file.
